


A Short History of How Dean Winchester Got to Have His Cake and Eat It Too

by enigmaticblue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-09
Updated: 2010-08-09
Packaged: 2017-10-11 00:36:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/106301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In retrospect, Dean probably should have seen this coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Short History of How Dean Winchester Got to Have His Cake and Eat It Too

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is brought to you by a joking reference I made to thomasina75 about wanting to see Dean/Lisa/Cas, and the schmoop_bingo prompt "making love." They go together like peanut butter and chocolate.

Dean walked through the front door with a feeling that could only be categorized as “thank God it’s Friday.” Back when he’d been hunting, days of the week hadn’t held much meaning, and he’d been out of school long enough to forget what that longing for the weekend felt like.

Times had changed.

He kicked his boots off at the door and padded through to the kitchen to dump his travel mug in the sink. Lisa stood in front of the stove, her hair pulled back in a sloppy ponytail, stirring something that smelled delicious.

“Hey,” he grunted, still a little caught up in the day’s events.

“Hey.” She turned and pulled Dean’s head down for a casual kiss. “How was your day?”

Dean shrugged. “The usual. Sorry I’m late. Kirk smashed his hand and had to be taken to the hospital, so we were short-handed.”

He didn’t even mean the pun, but he saw the quick flash of humor cross Lisa’s face. “Is that right?”

Dean chuckled. “What about your day?”

“Nothing so exciting as a hand getting smashed,” Lisa replied. “But I told Ben he could sleep over at Scott’s house tonight.”

Dean blinked. “Ben’s not here?”

“No, he’s at Scott’s.” Lisa’s smile held an edge that Dean couldn’t quite interpret. “All night. And all morning, since I told him you’d pick him up at noon.”

If someone had told Dean that practically being married to someone meant that he’d be getting less sex than he’d had _before_ shacking up with Lisa, he wouldn’t have believed it. He’d figured it was a myth, particularly when he and Lisa had such good chemistry—she was still hot and bendy, and she certainly hadn’t complained about his ability in the bedroom.

But there were always errands to run, and chores to do, and a kid to chauffeur. Ben slept right down the hall, so they had to be quiet when they did have sex, and some nights it was a hell of a lot more tempting just to curl around each other and sleep.

So, Dean figured he could be forgiven for being a little slow on the uptake, and for not immediately recognizing the light in Lisa’s eyes.

“That’s great,” he said. “I guess that means we can sleep in.”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “I was hoping we could do a little more than _sleep_, Dean.”

Oh. _Oh_. Still, he wasn’t about to let on that sex hadn’t even crossed his mind, especially not now that he was _totally_ on board with the idea.

Dean moved to stand behind her, hooking a couple of fingers through the belt loops of her jeans, tugging her back against him. “Well, when you put it that way...”

Her lips twitched. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Can’t that wait?”

When she hummed a little under her breath, as though thinking over her options, Dean leaned over her shoulder, attempting to sniff out what was for dinner. “It’s chili, isn’t it? You can put it on the back burner,” he wheedled.

And, in case she needed a little extra persuasion, Dean ran his hands over her hips, around the front of her thighs, and ghosted up the inside of her legs, tracing the seams on her jeans.

Lisa arched back into him but she didn’t put down the spoon. “Go grab a beer,” she told him. “Anticipation will make it even better.”

Dean couldn’t argue with her there. His body was already buzzing with it, and since Lisa didn’t seem inclined to go along with the idea of instant gratification, he began thinking of all the ways he could stretch it out.

It had been a long time since they’d had the house to themselves for the night; Dean figured he could work on making her scream at least once.

Dean released her long enough to grab two beers, and he set hers on the counter next to the stove. He stood close enough to her that he could feel the heat from the burner—close enough so that her arm brushed his every time she had to reach for the spices.

Her amused smile told Dean that she knew exactly what he was doing; the way her pupils were blown wide told him that it was working.

They ate dinner with a feigned casualness, comfort and attraction present in equal measure. When Lisa’s foot began stroking his calf under the table halfway through the meal, Dean gave her a mock-glare. “Don’t start something you don’t want to finish,” he warned her.

Lisa smirked. “Oh, I plan to finish it.”

Dean shifted in his chair, his jeans becoming uncomfortably tight. “Two can play that game.”

“Bring your A game, big guy,” Lisa challenged.

Dean reached for her free hand. “Other than picking Ben up, do we have anything else going on tomorrow?”

She frowned, clearly thrown by the change in subject. “No, I don’t think so. Laundry, chores, the usual.”

Dean began rubbing his thumb across her pulse point, gently massaging her wrist, the heel of her hand, carefully massaging each finger. He heard her breathing hitch, could feel her pulse jump, and he pulled her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her palm.

When he released her, Lisa stared at him. “Okay, that’s an A game.”

Dean grinned. “We’d probably better clean up.”

“The dishes can wait.” She stood and pulled him to his feet.

His lips found hers with easy intimacy, and he pulled the elastic from her hair. Lisa’s arms came around his neck, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Careful not to knock Lisa into any walls, Dean carried her down the hall to their bedroom. With Ben gone, they could have had sex on the kitchen table, but Dean was old enough to appreciate a good bed when one was available.

He threw her down on the bed and began stripping, watching as Lisa pulled her shirt off over her head and shimmied her hips to get her jeans down.

Dean groaned and moved a little faster. He covered her body with his, his fingers finding her clit with an ease born of practice. Lisa was already wet, her hips moving restlessly, and Dean slipped a finger inside as he kissed his way down her neck, down her chest, swirling his tongue around her right nipple.

Lisa gasped, and Dean could feel how close she was to coming. It was going to be one of those nights—one of the nights where she could go all night long, and he slipped two fingers inside her.

She came with a long, breathless gasp, and Dean raised his head. “Okay?”

“Better than,” Lisa assured. “Get up here.”

Their kiss was just as needy as before, and Dean was hard and aching. Lisa guided Dean inside, and he paused, giving himself time to adjust to her warmth. He wanted to make this last; he wanted to make her come again, to see her fall apart underneath him.

Dean found a rhythm, his quick shallow strokes designed to hit Lisa’s clit and have her going over the edge again.

He was too lost in the sensations, in Lisa, to realize that there was something wrong until she shrieked.

And Dean had heard enough screams to know when it wasn’t the sexy kind.

He rolled off of Lisa, pulling the covers up in one quick move—and then relaxed immediately when he saw what—who—it was. “Cas.” Dean gave Lisa a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. I know him.”

It wasn’t okay, of course. Dean had been in the middle of some of the best sex he’d had in weeks, and he wasn’t pleased with the interruption. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Dean demanded.

“I needed to see you,” Castiel replied. “I...see you are busy.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.” At least Cas was focusing on him and not Lisa. “Can it wait? Preferably until tomorrow?”

Castiel hesitated. “I—yes. I can come back tomorrow.”

He was gone with the sound of fluttering wings, and Dean shouted after him, “And use the damn door next time!”

Dean turned to look at Lisa with some trepidation; he had no idea how she was going to respond to the sudden intrusion.

In retrospect, Dean probably should have seen this coming. Murphy’s Law—and his luck—being what it was, it was only a matter of time before Cas showed up while he and Lisa were having sex.

Lisa’s expression seemed to be a mix of bemused and freaked out. “So, that was Cas.”

“Yeah.” Dean hesitated. “Did I tell you about him?”

The only time he’d really ever talked about Sam or Cas or the apocalypse, Dean had been three sheets to the wind, and he’d never been able to recall that evening clearly.

“You said he was a friend,” Lisa replied, her tone dry. “You didn’t say that he could appear and disappear out of thin air.”

“He’s an angel,” Dean explained.

Lisa’s eyebrows went up. “And what would he want from you?”

“I don’t know.” Dean glanced away. “Maybe he wanted a threesome.” As soon as the words had left his mouth, Dean cursed his smartass tendencies. Now was really not the time to piss Lisa off; he really didn’t want to have to finish up alone.

When the silence stretched on too long, Dean hazarded a look at her, and his eyes widened when he saw that she wore a look of consideration. “You’re not seriously thinking about it.”

Lisa smirked at him. “It’s called a fantasy, Dean. Women are allowed.”

“Yeah, but...Cas.” Only now that he was thinking about it, the idea held far more appeal than it should have. Not that he would ever go there, but... “It’s Cas.”

Lisa shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s kind of attractive, and you two were certainly staring at each other enough.”

“I—” Dean stopped, realizing that he had absolutely no idea what to say.

She grinned at him. “But I already have enough men in my life, so it will stay a fantasy.”

“Good to know,” Dean managed.

“You should invite him over for dinner tomorrow,” Lisa continued blithely. “If he’s going to be popping in like that, I’d like to get to know him.”

Dean snorted. “Right.”

“I would,” Lisa insisted, and then threw the blankets back, throwing a leg over Dean and straddling his waist. “You don’t keep a lot of contacts from before, and from what you said that night, you two were close.”

“I don’t know that you’d say we were close,” Dean protested, although he wasn’t sure how else someone would describe their relationship.

Lisa was moving her hips, rubbing up against him. Dean was quickly growing hard again, and he let out a muffled gasp as she took him inside again. “But he’s your friend.”

“Is now really the time to talk about Cas?” Dean managed to ask.

“You were turned on by the idea of a threesome,” Lisa said with a knowing smile.

“Not really.” She did a hip twist thing that never failed to get him. “Okay, maybe a little.”

Lisa smiled down at him. “You don’t have to leave everything in your past behind in order to have a future, Dean.”

Then she rode him until he was the one cried out.

~~~~~

Dean had half-expected Cas to show up early the next morning. Before he and Lisa finally went to sleep, he wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have told Cas to show up _much_ later, but he shouldn’t have worried. He and Lisa woke up around eight by force of habit, had lazy morning sex, and then went back to sleep. They woke in time for Dean to grab a shower, and since Cas still hadn’t shown up, Dean left to pick Ben up.

“So, did you have a good time at Scott’s, bud?” Dean asked as Ben clambered in the car.

“It was cool,” Ben replied, trying to sound casual, which was pretty typical of late. “We played a lot of video games.”

“Anything fun?”

“He has Borderlands.”

“That’s the zombie game that your mom won’t let you get, right?”

Ben flushed. “Yeah. You won’t tell her, right?”

“Not my secret to tell.” Dean shared a conspiratorial look with Ben, and they both grinned. “You hungry?”

“No, we had leftover pizza for lunch. I’m good.”

Dean pulled up in front of the house and watched as Ben ran inside, following a little more slowly. He stopped cold when he entered, seeing Cas sitting on the couch next to Lisa. Cas was sitting ramrod straight, hands on his knees, but the expression on his face was almost relaxed, at least for Cas.

“Uh, Cas.”

“You did say I could come by today,” Castiel said, remaining where he was. “And I did knock.”

“He did,” Lisa confirmed, suppressed laughter in her eyes. “Why don’t you guys catch up?”

Ben still stood halfway into the living room, watching Cas with curiosity, but Lisa had trained him too well to actually demand answers. “Uh, Cas, this is my son, Ben. Ben, this is my friend, Cas.”

“I didn’t know you had any friends,” Ben said skeptically.

“Ben!” Lisa’s expression promised trouble later. “I think you have some chores to do.”

Lisa pressed a kiss to Dean’s cheek as she passed, and Dean took her spot on the couch for lack of anything better to do. “You want to tell me why you showed up last night?”

“I wanted to be sure you were doing okay,” Cas replied stiffly.

Dean raised his eyebrows and leaned back into the cushions. “You couldn’t look down from on high and figure that out?”

Cas shifted. “I wanted to see you with my own eyes, I think is the expression.”

“Oh.” Dean felt himself flushing, and he thought about Lisa’s statement the night before, about how he and Cas stared at each other. “Well, it’s good to see you, too.” He coughed. “But, you know, maybe next time you could call first, or at least knock.”

The hint of a smile turned up the corners of Cas’ mouth. “I’ll remember that for the future.” There was a weighty pause, and Cas added, “I like Lisa. She’s good for you.”

“She is,” Dean agreed. “Lisa is great.”

Dean let the silence hang. He’d forgotten what it was like to be in Cas’ presence, to feel the weight of Cas’ stare. Dean had missed it, and he’d blurted out the words before he could think better of it. “I missed you.”

And now Castiel’s smile was even more evident. “I missed you as well.”

Dean took a deep breath. “So, do you want a beer? And Lisa wanted you to stay for dinner, so if you don’t have anywhere else to be...”

“I think I can find the time,” Cas said. “You look good Dean.”

“Thanks.” Dean smiled. “I feel pretty good.”

In fact, Dean thought, his life was as close to perfect as a Winchester was likely to get.


End file.
